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Even now a shudder of distaste runs through me. Damn it. I have no right to be upset. Hell, the fact that I am upset is upsetting.
I’d pulled up my big-girl panties and suggested to Gray that I might be a third wheel.
He’d reacted as though I was insulting him, insisting that tonight was our night to hang out. So I let the matter drop. But eventually I’ll have to deal with seeing Gray pick up women.
Frowning, I detach my phone from the dock and slip it into my little clutch purse.
“You going to be all right?” I ask Fiona before I go.
She shoos me away with a weak hand. “I’m almost better. Now go and have fun with the entire freaking football team of hotness, you hussy.”
“It’s not the entire team,” I say with a smile. “Maybe like half. Three-quarters at the most.”
Fi tosses a pillow at me, but it falls with a sad little thump far short of me. “So jealous. Go then, get your sexy on. And you’d better send me snaps of their arms!”
Fi is an admitted lover of big biceps.
“Will do.” I wave and head out.
The bar where I meet Gray is filled with people, and apparently doing a retro night. Eighties hip-hop pounds from the speakers as I weave through the crush. My height has an advantage here, as does Gray’s; I easily spot him above the crowd, his dark gold hair shining like a beacon as he strides forward to meet me. I love that I can wear heels and he still has inches on me.
“Hey,” he says when we get to each other. “We’ve got a booth in the...” He trails off as he truly looks at me, and his lips part as if he’s taking a quick breath.
“What?” My voice is too loud, the music making it hard to hear anything, and I lean closer. Enough that I feel the heat of his body and catch his clean scent. Soap and man has never smelled better.
For a moment, we kind of just sway around each other. Like magnets in too-close proximity deciding whether to slam together or split apart. A strange little dance that has us both flustered.
Gray clears his throat and edges back as if my nearness is too much for him. Well, okay then, I don’t smell, do I? I scowl, but his mouth quirks on a smile.
“You look...nice, Mac.”
“High praise there, Cupcake.” My scowl grows, and he laughs.
“Okay, you look really nice. Hot, even.” Again, he looks me over, this time lingering on my top. “Totally, smokin’ hot.”
A flush of heat rushes over my body, settling between my legs, and I’m the one doing the throat clearing. It doesn’t stop the slow tide of unexpected lust that makes my steps unsteady. What the hell? It’s just Gray.
“I like to dress up now and then. Don’t look so shocked.”
“I’m not shocked.” Gray takes hold of my elbow gently, and guides me toward the back of the club. “I’m grateful.”
“Grateful?”
He’s still giving me sidelong glances as if he’s convinced the scenery will change and doesn’t want it to.
Gray just shakes his head and leans in until his lips brush my ear. His warm breath and deep voice caress my skin.
“Mac, I’m a healthy heterosexual male. Anytime a girl looks hot, I’m fucking grateful.”
Lips pursed, I make no further comment. It’s ridiculous how much his admiration pleases me. And disconcerting, as if I’ve taken a shot of hard liquor that’s gone straight to my head.
I am still a bit dizzy when we reach the large circular booth that holds Gray’s friends.
They all smile at me with varying degrees of interest, as if they’ve been waiting to get a good look.
“Ivy,” Gray says, giving a nod in my direction by way of introduction. “Diaz, Rolondo, Dex, Marshall, Johnson, Cal, Drew, and Anna.”
Anna, the curvy redhead and the lone girl at the table, has the widest smile.
